2025-05-08 20:39:57The clubhouse roared with life. Music blasted from every corner, drinks flowed like rivers, and laughter bounced off the glass walls. Rickon sat at the center of it all, legs sprawled and arms wide, as if the entire party existed solely for his amusement. He didn’t care much for the noise or the chaos—what mattered was that the ladies adored him. Every flirtatious glance, every giggle aimed his way fueled his already inflated ego.
And Beauty, ever the drama queen, was livestreaming the entire event, pouting into her camera as she called him “Zaddy Rickon.”
Rickon grinned like a devil in velvet. This was his realm, his world, and the crowd fed off his presence like moths to a flame.
When he was buzzed enough to feel invincible, he clapped loudly, silencing the music for a moment. “Yo, Chance!” he called, his voice slurred slightly. “You bring anything for my girl, Chloe? Don’t tell me you showed up here empty-handed to just feed off her like the charity case you are.”
Chloe, standing close to the bar in her sequined silver dress, stiffened at the mention of her name. She didn’t appreciate being called “his girl” or the way he was speaking to Chance, but she had to admit—Rickon had paid for everything. The private clubhouse, the open bar, the decorations, even the over-the-top six-tier cake with her face printed on it. It wasn’t how she imagined celebrating her birthday, but it was... extravagant. Unforgettable. So she had to play the perfect hostess.
She looked at Chance, her expression hopeful yet guarded. Surely he'd not come empty-handed. He was too thoughtful for that. A gadget, maybe? A gift card? She knew Chance had never been flashy.
“Let’s see what Mr. Modest brought,” someone chuckled.
Vinita, leaning against the backrest with her wine glass tilted, smirked. “Well, Chance gave me the cheapest box of chocolates I've ever seen for my birthday—and we were dating then,” she said pointedly. “I wonder what a ‘just friend’ gets?”
The group erupted in laughter. Chloe winced.
Chance didn’t respond to their jeers. He walked over to her calmly, holding a sleek black gift bag with the signature gold “LV” seal embossed at the front. He offered it to her without flourish, just a quiet, “Happy birthday, Chloe.”
Chloe opened the bag and pulled out a stunning black purse—sleek, structured, and unfamiliar. It was beautiful, no doubt, but not something anyone had seen before. Murmurs started.
“What kind of LV is that?”
“Wait... is that real?”
Rickon narrowed his eyes. He didn't like that the buzz was shifting to Chance. He stood and sauntered over, reaching for the bag like a hawk circling prey. Chloe hesitated, but he snatched it from her hands with a mock-charming grin. “Mind if I take a closer look, princess?”
He turned it over, examined the stitching, the gold hardware, and the subtle pattern woven into the leather.
Then he stilled.
“This... this is the Louis Vuitton Black Widow,” Rickon announced. “It’s a one-of-a-kind design. Only one ever made. It was auctioned tonight at a private collector's event. A very private event—only twenty people were invited.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Chance watched him with a quiet smile, hands folded behind his back. He didn’t have to say a word— Rickon was confirming the truth for him.
“Wait, wait,” someone said. “How do you know all that, Rickon?”
Rickon rolled his eyes. “Because my mother was at that auction. She was the one who almost got it. Lost the bid to some crazy billionaire who paid three million dollars for it.”
A stunned silence fell.
Everyone turned to Chance. He was suddenly the topic of the night. Girls were already plotting how to sidle up to him.
“You bought that?” Jessica asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s a $3 million bag.”
Rickon scoffed. “Please. Chance? Don’t make me laugh.”
But the murmurs had already begun.
“Did he steal it?”
“No way, he doesn't look like someone with that kind of money.”
“Maybe he’s like those secret billionaire characters on Meganovel... you know, hidden identity, fake poverty, all that jazz.”
Rickon paled.
He couldn’t let that narrative take root.
He laughed loudly, clapping his hands. “Y’all think he bought that bag? Come on now! You really think Chance is some mystery billionaire? Maybe next you’ll say he owns half the country and just ‘forgot’ to mention it!”
The crowd laughed nervously.
Rickon pressed on. “The bidding started at two hundred grand. Only people who had pre-approved bank guarantees could participate. My mom had to back out because the buyer went nuclear with the price. Three million. Three. Million. You think this guy has three million to spend on a purse?”
More laughter. This time, crueler.
Rickon’s grin sharpened. “He probably bought a replica. You can get high-grade copies from China for, like... a thousand bucks max. Heck, some of them even come with fake certificates and QR codes.”
The energy shifted.
Suddenly, the awe turned to suspicion.
“Wait, are you saying it’s fake?” one of the girls asked.
“Imagine that.” Rickon said smugly. “You guys know how we run things here—either the real deal or no deal at all.”
“Either the real deal or no deal at all!” The room echoed in drunken agreement.
Chloe’s brows furrowed. She looked at Chance, silently asking for confirmation.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Rickon cut in.
“Hopefully Julia Franklin becomes the next president; people like you—counterfeit supporters, fraud enablers—be sure, you'll be standing behind bars.”
Boos filled the room. Someone threw a napkin. A few girls hissed and muttered about wasted beauty. Chloe stepped forward, trying to salvage the moment, but it was too late.
Chance felt anger ripple through him. But he didn't let it show. He didn’t have to. He nodded slowly. “Happy birthday, Chloe,” he said softly. Then he turned and walked out.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow sounded louder than the music that started up again.
Rickon raised his glass, grinning. “To real class.”
But Chloe didn’t smile. Her hands clutched the bag to her chest, her gaze fixed on the door Chance had just walked through.
Something about this didn’t sit right.
And somewhere deep in her gut, she knew the bag was real. Knew Chance had done something insane, something reckless—but not fake.
Never ever fake.
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Chapter 354
Harry watched the standoff, his own plan crumbling. He had envisioned a clean, if dangerous, extraction: two hostages out, one tragic loss. A brutal calculus he could maybe live with. But this stubborn, interconnected refusal to abandon one of their own was something else entirely. It was the antithesis of the cold, transactional world he'd lived in since he returned to start living with Richard.He saw the resolve in Wilfreda's eyes, a mirror of the fierce defiance he remembered from the café. He saw the terrified courage in Janelle's, a loyalty that transcended self-preservation. They were a unit, and in that moment, it felt as though breaking them, even for their own good, was just another kind of violation.A heavy sigh, born of exhaustion and a sudden, shocking admiration, escaped him. The keys felt like lead in his hand.The path of least resistance, the coward's path, he now saw, was to insist, to force Janelle out. But looking at these two women, one his cousin, one a strang
Chapter 353
Time lost all meaning in the windowless cell. It could have been minutes or hours since Helsin was taken. The silence was a living thing, pressing in on them, broken only by Janelle’s occasional, shuddering breaths and the distant, indeterminate hum of the building’s machinery.Wilfreda held Janelle, her own mind a tempest of dread and furious, impotent planning. Every footstep in the corridor outside sent a fresh jolt of terror through them, each one a potential herald of their own doom.Having watched Helsin being dragged away earlier had really done something to them psychologically, and even if they didn't really want to admit it, both of them were already afraid that something bad might have happened to them, and that one of them would be next in line.Then, a new sound. Not the usual heavy, synchronized tread of the guards. This was lighter, quicker. A single set of footsteps, approaching with a strange urgency. They stopped right outside their cell.A key scraped in the lock.J
Chapter 352
Philip didn’t bother to answer with words, and that was because words had caused enough trouble tonight. Instead, he cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, and leaned in.This kiss was different from the one before. That had been a promise, a seal on a vow. This one was an answer. It was deep, claiming, and breathtaking in its intensity. It held fifteen years of shared history, the terror of nearly losing her, the fierce joy of being chosen, and the absolute certainty of his own devotion. It was a silent, powerful rebuttal to every one of his foolish fears and a playful retaliation to her tease.When they finally parted, both were breathless. Julia’s eyes were shining, all traces of anger and sadness replaced by a luminous warmth. Philip rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling.“I think,” he murmured, his voice husky with emotion, “that should answer your question.”“It does,” Julia whispered, her smile soft and sure. “And just for the record, it answers y
Chapter 351
Philip held Julia's gaze, the depth of his love warring with a vulnerability he rarely showed. Her hands on his face were an anchor, but the question burning in his chest felt like a tide trying to pull him out to sea. He took a shaky breath."Julia," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling both foreign and essential. "Do you love me?"The question landed in the quiet room with the force of a physical blow. Julia's hands stilled on his cheeks. Her eyes, so full of concern a moment before, widened in pure, uncomprehending shock. She pulled back slightly, creating a space between them that felt suddenly vast."Why are you asking such a question?" Her voice was low, edged with a hurt that was sharper than anger. "Philip, we've been married for over fifteen years. Our life, our family, everything we've built... do you honestly believe any of that could exist without love?"The raw confusion in her eyes was more painful than any accusation. Philip instantly regretted
Chapter 350
Helsin had finally come to accept her fate in the cell where she had now found herself. She was done wallowing in her ordeal, and tonight, she had decided to turn her pain into strength by telling Wilfreda and Janelle a story.And so, with her sharp eyes that missed nothing and a posture that spoke of enduring many storms, she told the same old story—the legend about the relics, about guardians and betrayals. To her, it was a way to pass the time, to keep their minds from the gnawing fear. Janelle, wrapped in a thin blanket, listened with rapt attention, her fear momentarily held at bay by the tale. Wilfreda, on the other hand, held her gaze which seemed to be distant and tracing the patterns in the dust on the floor, her thoughts clearly elsewhere as this was a story she had heard time and time again.Just then, the door at the end of the corridor clanged open, the sound echoing like a death knell. Booted footsteps, purposeful and grim, approached their cell.All three women became
Chapter 349
Harry moved silently through the east wing of his father’s estate, a nagging sense of unease gnawing at him since the disastrous courtroom day.His father, Richard, and his uncle, Robert had been sequestered in the study for hours. The usual hum of the house was muted, servants dismissed under the guise of ‘family business.’Driven by a dread he couldn’t name, Harry paused outside the study’s doors. The murmur of voices was low and urgent as he leaned closer, his ear almost touching the polished wood.“...a liability we can no longer afford,” Robert’s voice, usually so smooth and controlled, was edged with a finality that made Harry’s blood run cold. “Helsin and Wilfreda know the entire provenance chain. They can trace the stones from the mine to our books. And the girl, Janelle… she heard things while she was with us. She’s a witness Flynn would move heaven and earth to protect. They can’t be allowed to live. Not after this.”There was a beat of silence as Harry held his breath, pre
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